


an enj0yable reprieve fr0m fatalism

by amazingspaceship



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dream Bubbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 12:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21373813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingspaceship/pseuds/amazingspaceship
Summary: When you were alive (for a given value of “alive,” anyway) it felt like you were constantly wading through a swimming pool; half of you in the real world, and half of you on Prospit. In the bubbles it feels like you are fully submerged, and it’s given you a kind of... clarity, maybe. Understanding. Brought you closer to something resembling personhood, in a weird sort of way. This probably shouldn’t surprise you. Grandpa never could resist adding a little bit of sentience to his inventions, after all. It's just your luck that it's stuck.You can’t talk, but that’s okay. A lot of things are okay.
Relationships: Jade Harley & Aradia Megido
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	an enj0yable reprieve fr0m fatalism

Your name is Jadebot.

At least, you think it is. You’re not exactly sure, anymore.

When you were alive (for a given value of “alive,” anyway) it felt like you were constantly wading through a swimming pool; half of you in the real world, and half of you on Prospit. In the bubbles it feels like you are fully submerged, and it’s given you a kind of... clarity, maybe. Understanding. Brought you closer to something resembling personhood, in a weird sort of way. This probably shouldn’t surprise you. Grandpa never could resist adding a little bit of sentience to his inventions, after all. It's just your luck that it's stuck.

You can’t talk, but that’s okay. A lot of things are okay.

You drift. It’s hard to be focused, to concentrate on being present. You have scant periods of coherency, and when you’re aware enough to catalogue your surroundings (always recording, always observing) you see strange things. Grey-skinned alien children. A planet made of fire and metal, bleeding into a forest of blue and pink trees. A coiling green snake undulating under a shattered sky.

You view these events, as well as everything else, with mechanical detachment. Your purpose is-

Was.

Your purpose was to observe, and so that is what you do. Mostly you’re just bored, although even that emotion is vague and uncertain.

You’re not sure how long you float, passively observing the world around you, but eventually you end up in a land covered in snow. And that is when you meet _her_.__

_ _She is sitting on the edge of a ruined tower, legs swinging over the void. And she’s like _you_: rendered in grey and black, wires barely visible through the chinks in her plating, eyes glassy and red. Two curling horns extend from a head of convincing synthetic hair. She turns as you alight on the rooftop next to her, regarding you with a familiar type of robotic detachment. Recording and observing.___ _

_ _ _ _Her voice, when she speaks, is tinged with mechanical distortion. "You're like me."_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _* * *_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Her name is Aradiabot, but she prefers Aradia. You’d tell her your name, if you could._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _She’s not _exactly_ like you, a fact which shouldn’t be as disappointing as it is. It’s obvious that her body was built to be lived in, to convincingly approximate a person, whereas yours was nothing more than a conduit. Something for Jade to... slip into, while she dreamed, like a pair of pajamas. You’re not sure if it’s fortunate or unfortunate that a few bits of her got left behind.___ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Aradia holds your hands in hers and explains things. A lot of it makes no sense: aliens? dreambubbles? But she seems confident in what she’s saying, and so you’re inclined to trust her._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Vriska was the one to kill me,” she confides. She’s showing you around her old hive, pointing out various alien appliances and fixtures. “Equius made me this body. When I was alive it made me feel all sorts of horrible things, but now that I’m dead those emotions are sort of muted.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _You don’t know who either of those people are, but you try to give an encouraging nod all the same. You were worried—a new feeling—that she’d leave you when she found out that you couldn’t speak. She hasn’t, yet, and you’re hopeful. That’s also a new feeling, but not an unwelcome one._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I’ve had a lot of time time to think about how I feel,” she tells you. “To reflect on what’s happened to me. Time doesn’t really pass that much in the bubbles. You can reflect here, too. Try to make sense of things.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _You want to ask her how she feels about this. You want to ask her a lot of things._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _You want to ask her where you—where Jade is. You’ve seen her in the bubbles, a few times, but her eyes were always glassy and white. Sometimes there’s more than one of her. You don’t exactly know how to make sense of that, how to quantify it like your programming urges you to do._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Aradia, possibly recognizing your internal conflict, smiles at you. “Take your time,” she says. “I’ll be here.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _* * *_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Time passes. You continue to drift in and out of consciousness, but now Aradia is there every time you wake up. At some point you wake to find that she has entwined her fingers with yours, and that... stirs something within you, a feeling that is somehow even more alien than your other inherited emotions. You hesitate to qualify it. You don’t think you could, even if you had a heart of flesh rather than metal. It feels... fluttery. Like a swarm of insects, rattling around in your chassis._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _There’s no end to the Asphodel that is the bubbles, and as you explore further they continue to be unswervingly strange. You and Aradia float through drowned cities, past crumbling purple towers, into a forest crackling with flame. You meet other wandering souls; a bisected prince, a sightless child, a voiceless harlequin. Some of the ghosts talk quietly to one another, or sit and stare vacantly at their surroundings. A few appear to be lost in their own memories, trapped within the haze of their own minds, forced to reenact the same events over and over again. Aradia assures you that they’ll snap out of it soon enough._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Actually, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she says. Your wariness must show on your face, because Aradia shoots you a soft smile and squeezes your hand. “Don’t worry, I think you’ll like her. And she might be able to help you.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Aradia leads you to a small bubble, floating on the edge of the resident cluster. It looks sort of like... John’s house? Except it’s balanced precariously on the tip of a rocky spire, which vanishes into a murky black ocean below. There are a few ghosts clustered together on the balcony. A beautiful woman with swirling tattoos argues with a shorter, nubby-horned alien, while a third woman in a magenta outfit watches on. They turn to watch as you land, and you find yourself confronted by three sets of empty eyes._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Aradia leads you over. “Let me introduce Porrim, Karkat, and Meulin.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _The ones named Porrim and Karkat both give you a wave, and then go back to arguing (something about a motherly grub? Your audio receptors haven't really been functioning perfectly). Meulin, however, comes over and gives Aradia a big hug. “Aradia! What a surpurrise! And who’s your friend?” You notice that Meulin speaks slightly too loudly than what you would imagine is socially appropriate, although as a formerly mindless robot you wouldn’t exactly call yourself an authority on such matters._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I’m not sure,” Aradia says. “That’s kind of the problem. She can’t speak - I was hoping you could teach her some sign language?” Then, to you: “Meulin is deaf. She uses Beforan sign language to communicate sometimes, and can hopefully give you a tip or two.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Um,” Meulin says. “I could teach you a basic alphabet, at least, although I don’t think I could really outline the entire language! The Beforan alphabet is pretty similar to the human one, at least in terms of phonetics, but the grammar is all over the place...”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _That’s fine, just teach me how to talk_ is what you don’t say. Instead, you wrap cold fingers around Meulin’s wrist and give an emphatic nod.__ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Okay!” she says brightly. Her hands come up to level with her chest; you bring yours up to match. “Here we go.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _* * *_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Learning a whole new language isn’t all that hard, as it turns out. The Beforan written language is phonemic, just like English, and so it’s pretty easy to match certain signs to certain english letters. Plus, you were _built_ to analyze and interpret visual stimuli. Sign language presents no real challenge. Meulin even teaches you some words, although she draws the line at grammar.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _The first thing you do after gaining your voice back is turn to Aradia and sign _why_ in stilted, mechanical movements.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _She frowns. “Huh?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Why did you decide to help me? We don’t know each other. I’ve barely been... aware for longer than a few days. I don’t understand.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Aradia is quiet for a long time. “I guess... you remind me of myself, when I first died. Listless. Bored. Unsure. And... I’ve been lonely. Nobody in this afterlife understands how it feels to be the way I am, except for myself. And I’ve talked to enough versions of myself for a lifetime. “_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _She smiles at you, impossibly soft for such a mechanical face. “I guess I just wanted a friend?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _You shoot forward and wrap your arms around her. For the first time since you’ve met her, she actually looks surprised—then she pulls you closer, holding you tight. You weren’t built with sensation in mind, but you can still feel her press against you. And she’s _warm_.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _If your eyes had tear ducts you’d be crying. As it is, you’re already trembling a little bit. You’ve never been hugged in your life before. You don’t want it to end. Aradia feels like a laptop that’s been left running, cozy and reassuringly solid, and her warmth fills you up inside and chases away the cold._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble that's been in my drafts for a long time. I'm on twitter @amzngspcshp


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